


Homemade Pasta

by FloralBucky



Series: ScarletWidow Soul Mates [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes Has Panic Attacks, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cooking, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:41:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloralBucky/pseuds/FloralBucky
Summary: Bucky comes home. Wanda helps him out. The superfam makes pasta.(Continuation of the ScarletWidow Soul Mate Series. Can be read as as a stand-alone but would make more sense after reading the first story in the series.)





	Homemade Pasta

Bucky was an interesting addition to the Avengers family, to say the least.

 

Even after the events of Civil War and half a year in cryo-freeze while doctors discovered and destroyed any kill-switches Hydra had left in his brain, Bucky was still in pain. The memories of his time as the Winter Soldier haunted him every day and he had violent nightmares that Wanda knew kept Steve and Sam awake at night. Bucky took fast, hot showers because any hint of cold sent him spiraling and he didn’t voluntarily go near any of Tony’s workshops because the tools reminded him of the instruments Hydra used to torture him. Wanda would never forget the first time she had experienced Bucky’s horrifying pain first hand.

 

*          *          *

After Steve broke the Avengers out of the Raft he took a very firm and very public stand for their rights. (“Very firm and very public” meaning that he talked to every reputable reporter, news outlet, Avengers fan group and free-speech anti-government organization that he could, spreading news of the Avengers’ lockup.) The resulting media attention drove the world governments to get together with the Avengers and draft a compromise to ensure both the freedom of the Avengers and the safety of the world.

The only thing Wanda remembered from the day they got released from the Raft was finally, _finally_ getting her restraints taken off. The collar around her neck had been so tight that it left deep purple bruises on her pale skin and the thick handcuffs that bound her wrists together left indents in her flesh that took weeks to fade away. The next few days she was passed around between doctors who tested her mental and physical abilities, as well as her powers. They determined that no permanent damage had been done to her or any of the other Avengers in the Raft, so they let her go.

She saw Natasha the second she stepped out of the quarantined testing room. Her soul mate was wearing a sharply pressed navy pantsuit and heels, as if she had just come from an important meeting, but there were dark circles under her eyes. She let out a soft breath when she saw Wanda standing there in hospital-issued clothes, pale and tired with stringy, unwashed hair.

“Are you okay,” she had breathed softly into Wanda’s ear the second they were pressed together. “Are you okay?” she asked again as her fingers ghosted over Wanda’s bruises.

“I’m better now,” Wanda had responded, and it was true. She breathed in the scent of Natasha’s hair and let her body relax for the first time in months.

Natasha kept her fingers intertwined with Wanda’s all the way back to Avengers tower. Between Ultron’s attack and the whirlwind of the Civil War Natasha and Wanda had moved onto Steve and Sam’s floor so they could spend more time together, and it had been good for all of them. Natasha had learned to open up more, Wanda felt like part of a family, and Steve and Sam felt less isolated in the tower with Wanda and Natasha right there. Pietro, despite having woken up, was still severely injured and confined to the tower hospital. Wanda visited him every day and every day he complained about not being able to leave his cot. Even in so much pain and misery Pietro still managed to make Wanda smile.

Natasha helped Wanda into the shower as soon as they got home. Steve and Sam were both gone – Steve was probably checking Sam out of his own hospital room – so the apartment was unusually quiet. Wanda couldn’t believe that she was back here – it felt like she’d been gone for ages and simultaneously no time at all. Everything was so bright and overwhelming and for a second she couldn’t move. But then Natasha was there at her back, guiding her to the bathroom, gently stripping Wanda’s clothes off and then her own.  

They stepped into the shower together and Natasha began to wash Wanda’s hair. She lathered her hands down with soap and ran her fingers through Wanda’s tangled curls, massaging her scalp and stringing out dirt and oil. Wanda leaned into Natasha until her back was flush against Nat’s front, but despite months of being apart there was nothing sexual about their interaction. Wanda was exhausted and touch-starved and even this little act was so intimate and soothing that she started falling asleep as she stood under the warm spray. When Natasha finished washing Wanda’s hair she started on her body, gently scrubbing Wanda’s pale skin. When she finished Wanda sleepily turned to return the favor, but Nat shook her head.

“You’re exhausted, sweetheart,” she said in a low, warm voice. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Wanda nodded absently as Natasha bundled her up in a towel, dried her off with the utmost care, and slipped her into her favorite cotton pajamas. As Wanda swayed in exhaustion by the side of their bed Natasha quickly put her own pajamas on and then tucked them under the blankets.

“I love you,” Wanda murmured as her eyes slid shut. She pressed herself into Natasha’s chest and was asleep a moment later.

Natasha was frozen. Neither of them had ever said “I love you” before. _But Wanda is beyond exhausted and hurt_ , Natasha reasoned as her heart thudded painfully. _She probably didn’t mean it._ But even as she told herself that her face melted into a little private smile. She fell asleep looking down at her soul mate: at her love.

 

*          *          *

 

 _She couldn’t breathe. Wanda was sitting against the frigid stone in a pitch-black corner of an even darker room and she could not breathe. The collar around her neck was tightening with each strangled breath, cutting off both her air and her powers, and she couldn’t even lift her bound hands to try and claw it away from her throat. She gasped, legs kicking desperately against the ground, but she couldn’t move, she couldn’t get away. She tried to cry out, to warn anyone, to get help, but all that came out was a raspy whimper. Her body was on fire despite the chill of the room and her eyes searched frantically in the dark for someone, anyone. She was getting light-headed and stars began to flash before her eyes, blinding her in the darkness. Wanda wriggled once more in her ties, terror speeding up her heartbeat. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she finally,_ blissfully, _faded into unconsciousness –_

“Wanda! Wanda!”

Wanda jolted awake to the sound of her own name. She sat up straight in bed, hands fisting the sheets as her head whipped around wildly.

"You’ve got to breathe, sweetheart. Breathe, Wanda. Breathe,” Natasha was saying. She was sitting up next to Wanda in bed, careful not to get too close, but her eyes were full of concern and a desire to wrap Wanda in her arms and never let her go. Wanda sucked in a mouthful of air and almost cried at the instant relief to her burning lungs. She took a few more breaths before lifting her arms up to scrub tears away from her eyes. When she pulled her hands away she was shocked to see them shaking.

“What time is it?” she asked, purposely not making eye contact with Natasha.

“3:56,” Natasha said. “Don’t be guilty,” she warned as she caught sight of Wanda’s expression. “Please. I would rather wake up hundreds of times to help you than sleep through the night.” She tucked her fingers under Wanda’s chin and raised her head until their eyes met. “Okay?”

“Okay,” Wanda mumbled, her eyes watery. She slid down until her head was in Natasha’s lap but she kept one of Natasha’s hands wrapped in her own. Natasha began massaging Wanda’s head with her free hand.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Natasha said softly, “But I’m here for you.” They sat in silence for another moment before Wanda spoke.

“I was back in my cell at the…at the Raft,” she paused for a moment to take a deep breath, to remind herself that she wasn’t back in her nightmare and that she was here in her bed with her perfect, beautiful, wonderful girlfriend.

“It was dark and cold and my collar kept getting tighter and tighter and I couldn’t breathe and no one could hear me calling for help and- ” Wanda broke off with a heaving gasp. She was trembling against Natasha so hard that the bed shook and Natasha could feel Wanda’s hot tears dripping onto her bare legs.

“You’re safe,” she whispered into Wanda’s hair, running a soothing hand down her back. “You’re here with me in our room in our bed in the tower and you’re safe. You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe,” she repeated as Wanda broke down.

“I love you,” Wanda hiccuped through her gasps and tears. “I love you so much.”

Natasha’s hand stilled on Wanda’s back.

“I know I said it last night while I was falling asleep but I want you to know – I _need_ you to know that I meant it. I mean it. You have been with me through everything even though I’ve repeatedly hurt you,” Wanda’s voice broke. “Even though I keep hurting you and will probably continue to hurt you you’ve never once left me when I needed it and you’ve always been able to calm me down and say exactly what I need to hear and I love you with every tiny part of me and I need you to know.” Wanda’s chest was heaving by the end of the speech and she gripped Natasha’s leg with her hand as if to cement her message, to ground it into Natasha’s skin.

Natasha was silent for long enough that Wanda began to worry that she’d said the wrong thing, that Natasha didn’t love her back. But then Natasha pulled Wanda up to a sitting position and crushed their lips together. Wanda could taste Natasha’s salty tears as Nat kissed her with all the passion and love that she had. When they broke apart Natasha pressed their foreheads together with a desperation that Wanda had never seen in her before.

“I-” she started before shaking her head against Wanda’s. “I’m not good with feelings,” she admitted brokenly. “But I know more than I’ve ever known anything that I am in love with you, Wanda Maximoff. I really fucking am.” Wanda laughed weakly and grabbed Natasha’s hands where they were pressed against the side of her head. They stayed that way for a moment, both of them sniffling.

“Look at us,” Natasha laughed suddenly. “What a pair of saps.” Wanda laughed at that, then tugged them back down until they were wrapped up in each other again. _I love this woman so, so much,_ she thought as she fell asleep.

 

*          *          *

 

A month later Steve and Sam brought Bucky home with them. They had warned Wanda and Natasha that Bucky was still in a lot of pain, that his mental health was volatile at best, but that he was doing all that he could to get better. Wanda could care less about Bucky’s volatility and wanted to do everything in her power to help him feel safe and comfortable in their home.

In spite of all that, the day Bucky arrived was a little rough.

He was wearing a navy t-shirt and some gray sweatpants that looked like they belonged to Sam and a pair of Nikes that looked like they belonged to Steve. He had a backpack slung across his back and his shoulder-length hair was tucked back under a gray baseball cap. He smiled hesitantly at Wanda and Natasha when he saw them, which was much more than they had expected. Wanda was pleasantly surprised, smiling back at Bucky, but Natasha kept her face passive and unreadable. Wanda understood why, but it still felt a little too “good cop, bad cop” for her liking.

“Bucky, this is Wanda and Natasha,” Steve said. He pointed at each of them as he said their names. “They’re both Avengers and they live on this floor with us.”

“I remember,” Bucky said in a quiet voice. “You did tell me before.”

Wanda snorted softly. Bucky turned sharply at her sound but simply gave her a little private smile. Wanda could already tell that she and Bucky were going to get along.

“Barnes,” Natasha acknowledged Bucky with a small nod. Her arms were crossed against her chest as if to guard herself. Wanda looked at her with concern. She knew that Natasha had come across the Winter Soldier several times in the past few years and that he had shot her twice, but her coldness almost made it seem – personal.

“Romanoff,” Bucky responded with only a bit less coolness in his voice. Steve, Sam, and Wanda all looked at each other, perplexed, and Wanda’s pointed gaze at the two of them made it clear that she would be talking to Natasha about this later.

“So,” Steve cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “I was going to give Bucky a tour of the floor and then we can reconvene in the kitchen to figure out dinner. Sound like a plan?”

“Of course,” Wanda smiled as Natasha nodded once more. Wanda hardly ever saw Natasha this emotionless around her family. The second Steve and Sam escorted Bucky around the corner she dragged Natasha back to their room and sat her down on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked pointedly, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. “You were being strangely standoffish with Bucky back there. I know he shot you twice but I also know that you have enough sense to separate his actions as the Winter Soldier from the man James Buchanan Barnes is today. Is there something I should know about?

She waited patiently as Natasha looked at her blankly, daring her to start a fight. Sometimes Nat would rather have a full-blown argument than talk about her feelings. Wanda understood it - she really did - but she was not in the mood and it was not a good time.

Finally Natasha relented with a quiet sigh.

“I knew Barnes – Bucky,” she corrected herself with another sigh, “when I was in the Red Room.” She kept a completely straight face and even breathing as she said it, but Wanda knew that her calm facade was the result of years of practice and S.H.I.E.L.D. mandated therapy. Wanda placed a tentative hand on top of Natasha’s, still not sure what the procedure was when they talked about the Red Room, but Natasha grabbed it tightly with a weak smile.

“He was one of my trainers. Because I was the best they eventually singled me out, made me train one-on-one with him. He helped teach me how to fight, how to be a good spy, how to…how to kill.” She looked up at Wanda as she said that, as if waiting for Wanda to toss her aside, revolted, or run away. But Wanda just squeezed Natasha’s hand tighter in encouragement. Reassured, Natasha continued.

“We were together all day, every day, for months. One day we kind of fell into bed with each other and then before I knew it we were sleeping together every night. I was still young – maybe eighteen or nineteen – and a man had never expressed interest in me like that before. Not organically, not without me leading him on or tricking him out of information and secrets afterwards. Sometimes he was the Winter Soldier when he was with me. Sometimes he hurt me and sometimes I hurt him. But sometimes…sometimes he was James. Sometimes I saw a terrified, hurt, confused man with no agency, trying desperately to find comfort in a cold world. And I wasn’t any better off,” she laughed bitterly. “I had no one.”

Wanda swallowed thickly and smoothed Natasha’s hair against her head. She wished with all her heart that she could have been there, that she could have snatched a young Natasha from the Red Room and protected her from everything she went through. But she kept quiet and let Natasha work through it at her own pace.

“One day his superiors found out. I don’t know how. Maybe he told them; maybe they were spying on us. Maybe our relationship compromised a mission somehow. All I know is that one day I woke up to them dragging him away. He was unconscious and limp and I thought he was dead.” She paused to clear her throat. Wanda ran a hand through her hair again.

“I found out he wasn’t dead years later when he shot me in the stomach. I was already working for S.H.I.E.L.D. by then and I hadn’t thought about him in years. But I was sure it was him. And now, all these years later, he’s here. In our home. I have no idea if he remembers me. Us. But I don’t want him to. I don’t need to add our complicated history to his already complicated life. I can’t put that on him.”

“You still love him,” Wanda said plainly. She felt a prick of fear, of jealously, but she pushed it down. Natasha couldn’t help what she might have felt or what she may still feel for Bucky. But they were soul mates now, and Natasha wouldn’t leave her. She was sure of it.

“Maybe,” Natasha said thickly. “But that doesn’t mean anything. The love I have was and is for James, a man who was part Winter Soldier and part James Buchanan Barnes and completely and utterly in a bad position. Bucky isn’t the same man he once was and I don’t want him to be. I have you,” she said, pressing her lips to Wanda’s forehead, “and you’re everything I need.”

Wanda squeezed her eyes shut in silent relief before wrapping Natasha in a tight hug. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it was hard and I’m very proud of you. Thank you for trusting me.” Natasha simply smiled her loving little smile and hugged Wanda back.

Just then Steve knocked on the door and poked his head in.

“We’re done with the tour if you guys are ready to meet us in the kitchen.” He looked at them for a moment; Natasha tucked into Wanda’s chest, and then raised his eyebrows at Wanda. She shook her head at him, then tapped Natasha lightly on the shoulder.

“Nat would you mind going to the kitchen? I would like to talk to Steve for a second. We’ll catch up in a minute.”

Natasha nodded, grateful that she didn’t have to be there when Wanda told Steve about her relationship with Bucky, and kissed Wanda on the forehead again before slipping past Steve out the door.

Steve stepped into the room and closed the door, then leaned against it with his arms crossed.

“What’s going on with her?” he asked, sounding a bit irritated. Wanda granted him that. His and Sam’s very hurt, quite unstable soul mate had finally returned to them and Natasha’s attitude was potentially threatening that. As Wanda briefly explained the situation, however, Steve’s eyebrow’s shot up in surprise and his mouth twisted in shock and worry. When she finished Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“I had no idea,” he finally said. He looked sad. “I’m not exactly sure what to do about it. Like you said; we have no idea if Bucky remembers what happened between them or not and I’m not exactly jumping at the idea to remind him.” He frowned again. “I can’t believe that happened to Nat. I feel horrible that she had to go through all that.”

“Me too,” Wanda admitted, “but they’re waiting for us. I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out.” Steve nodded and they left Wanda and Nat’s bedroom and headed to the kitchen.

Bucky was standing at the opening to the kitchen with his back to the wall. Wanda could tell that he was positioned so that he could see both the kitchen and the dining room, presumably so that no one could sneak up and surprise him. She frowned, unhappy but not surprised that he still felt unsafe. This was a new space, after all. She couldn’t just expect him to automatically be comfortable around them. Sam was a bit further in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He appeared relaxed, but Wanda could tell that he was tense. Natasha was leaning against the counter across from Sam, her position mirroring his almost exactly. Instead of the slight twist to her mouth that Sam wore, however, Natasha’s face was completely blank. Her mask.

“Okay,” Steve said gently once they assessed the situation. “Bucky do you have any preferences for what we eat for dinner? Tonight is Wanda and Nat’s turn to cook but they can both make just about anything. If not we can always order in.”

“Cooking is fine,” Bucky said quickly in his soft voice. Wanda wondered if he wanted to avoid causing them extra trouble or if he didn’t want to eat take-out for some reason.

“Okay,” Steve said again. “Do you want a specific type of food? Anything you like?”

For a second Wanda thought Bucky was going to bolt. His eyes moved rapidly from Steve to her to Sam to Natasha and he fingered his backpack nervously. _His backpack,_ Wanda noted with interest. _He’s still wearing his backpack._

The moment passed when Bucky finally said “Pasta,” barely above a whisper.

“Pasta sounds great,” Steve said with a smile. Wanda could tell he was trying to maintain an even tone as not to spook Bucky, but she could also see that it was killing him not to go press Bucky into his arms. Her chest ached. She looked over at Natasha but her soul mate’s expression was exactly the same as it was a minute ago: blank.

“Is chicken fine? Or would you rather just have the pasta with a sauce, without any meat?” Steve tried to frame each question as an option so Bucky didn’t get too overwhelmed and it was obvious that Bucky knew what he was doing, but he didn’t say anything about it. In fact, he seemed grateful.

“No chicken, please,” Bucky responded, then slumped against the wall in exhaustion, clearly done answering questions. Steve smiled at him encouragingly, then turned to the rest of them.

“I think we have some stuff to make pasta in here because Wanda I know you like making your own pasta, but we don’t have any ingredients for a tomato sauce. Or any vegetables.”

“I can make a grocery run,” Sam volunteered quickly. He looked eager to help, but also to get outside of the apartment. The air was thick enough to cut with a knife and the range of emotions coming from each of them mixed into a rather unpleasant and tension-filled atmosphere. “I’ll pick up stuff for sauce, some fresh spinach. Maybe some dessert. It’s the least I can do,” he looked to Steve desperately. Steve and him had a silent conversation before Steve nodded. Sam crossed the room and gave Steve a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving. Wanda could see Bucky watching them as they kissed, but she couldn’t read his expression.

A moment later Bucky followed Steve out of the room. The second they were gone all the tension in Natasha’s body bled out. She pressed her hands over her eyes and breathed for a second before turning to Wanda.

“Ready to make some pasta?” she asked with forced levity. Rather than call her on it Wanda smiled with as much love and encouragement as she could and they got to work.

By the time they finished making the dough Wanda was covered in flour. She glared at Natasha.

“Why do you insist on doing this to me?” she asked, gesturing to one of the many white handprints on her stomach.

“It’s not my fault that you look so kissable while you make pasta,”’ Natasha smirked, winding her floury arms around Wanda’s waist and pulling her in for a kiss. They broke apart and a puff of flour dust floated up into Wanda’s face. She sneezed violently.

“You’re hot while you cook, adorable when you sneeze,” Natasha teased. “When are you not the cutest and best woman in the world?” Wanda blushed and pushed at Natasha’s chest.

“Go away, you’re distracting me,” she said with a playful scowl. “Go wash up and then I’ll teach you how to shape the pasta.” Natasha’s eyes lit up with genuine excitement and Wanda couldn’t help but snort. She slapped Natasha’s butt as her girlfriend left the kitchen, leaving a perfect white flour imprint of her hand on the back of her blue jeans. Natasha looked back at her with an offended expression as she disappeared around the corner.

Wanda, giggling, got back to the pasta. She had pulled out the pasta machine and was beginning to feed some of the rolled-out dough into it when she heard a soft “Excuse me?” coming from the entrance to the kitchen. Wanda carefully set the pasta dough down and turned around to find Bucky hovering a few feet behind her. He was still wearing his backpack, hat, and shoes as if he thought he would need to run at any moment. Wanda’s stomach turned. She knew exactly how that felt. When her and Pietro were alone after the death of their parents they couldn’t rely on anyone and almost never felt safe enough to settle for longer than a night.

            “Hey,” she smiled, trying her best to appear relaxed and non-threatening. She knew in her heart that Bucky wasn’t dangerous and wouldn’t hurt her, but she wasn’t sure if he knew the same about her. “What do you need?”

“A glass of water?” Bucky asked hesitantly in his quiet voice. He looked almost apologetic, as if asking her for water was a major disturbance.

“Yeah, of course,” Wanda said brightly. “The glasses are in that cabinet and the filtered water thing is in the fridge.” Bucky hesitated, looking from her to where she had pointed. “Unless you want me to get it for you,” Wanda said slowly, “Which is also perfectly fine.”

“No, no,” Bucky said hurriedly. “Please don’t go out of your way. I can get it.” He looked at her one more time before ghosting his way across the kitchen, his shoulders turned inwards. Wanda turned back towards the pasta but watched him out of the corner of her eye as he pulled a glass down from the cabinet and made his way towards the fridge. When Bucky took out the water pitcher, poured himself a glass, and put it back, Wanda breathed a sigh of relief. But then she noticed that he had been standing in front of the open fridge for a bit too long, the glass of water frozen in his hand.

“Bucky?” she asked quietly, tip-toeing towards him. She didn’t want to startle him from behind, but there was no other way to get his attention. “Bucky?”

Wanda was almost on Bucky’s side when a loud shattering sound caused her to start. Cold water seeped under her bare feet and she realized that Bucky had dropped his glass. He was still standing in front of the fridge, eyes frozen on something within, his hand raised as if the glass was still in it.

“Bucky!” Wanda said again with a little more urgency. “Are you okay?” Still no response. Wanda took a deep breath. _Okay,_ she thought. _Okay._ She carefully shut the fridge, making sure not to touch Bucky or startle him, before slowly raising her hands up in front of her face.

“Bucky, I’m going to put my hands on your shoulders. Okay? I’ve got to get you away from the broken glass. All I’m going to do is put my hands on your shoulders.” When he still didn’t respond she looked more closely at his face. His eyes were far, far away and he was breathing in little shallow puffs of air. His chest was trembling. _Shit._

“I’m reaching out to you now,” Wanda narrated as she moved to take Bucky by the shoulders. When her hands made contact with him he flinched violently but didn’t say anything or move away. “Okay,” Wanda said again, partly to reassure Bucky and partly to steady herself. “I’m going to bring you this way, away from the glass,” she said in a soothing tone as she slowly guided Bucky out of the kitchen and into the dining room. She planned to bring him to an armchair in the living room but the second they were out of the kitchen Bucky sunk to his knees and pulled himself into a corner. Wanda went with him, ending up flush next to him on the floor of the dining room. Bucky’s knees were pulled up to his chest but his eyes were still unfocused and his breathing was still sharp and unnatural.

“Bucky you need to breathe,” Wanda pitched her voice low. “You need to breathe with me.” She picked up his hand and placed it against her chest, then breathed a few exaggerated breaths. _In, out. In, out. In, out._

For a moment she thought it wasn’t going to work. Bucky was still practically hyperventilating, his shoulders shaking, and his hand on her chest was limp. But then she noticed him taking bigger breaths, and the trembling slowed. Wanda kept guiding Bucky’s breathing for several more minutes before his eyes came back into focus. He carefully drew his hand away from her chest and stared at the floor for a moment, his body tense.

“I’m sorry.”

Wanda almost laughed. “Bucky,” she said in what she hoped wasn’t a patronizing tone, “You have nothing to apologize for. You can’t help what triggers you and you can’t help panic attacks. Believe me.”

Bucky looked up at her sharply at that, as if he didn’t think that she could have experienced a panic attack before. He looked away.

“I’m sorry about the glass. I just…I wasn’t expecting the cold.” He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. Wanda couldn’t help but think that he looked so young just then, younger than her. All soft edges and vulnerable skin. His hat was still pulled low over his eyes and she felt the urge to take it off and smooth her fingers through his tangled hair.

Before she could do anything stupid Steve rounded the corner. His happy expression died when he saw them sitting together on the dining room floor.

“Are you guys okay?” he asked frantically, kneeling down so that he was on their level. “What happened?”

Wanda was about to step in and make something up, for Bucky’s sake, but he stopped her with a gentle touch to her knee.

“Its okay,” he murmured with a tiny grateful smile. He turned his gaze to Steve. “I dropped a glass. I freaked out a little about the fridge. Wanda helped me.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in concern, but Wanda shook her head. It wasn’t the time to make a big deal out of this, and Bucky was fine. Steve held her gaze for a second more before turning back to Bucky.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Buck,” he said with his trademark genuine smile. Wanda felt Bucky tense up at the nickname, but when she looked up at him it was longing that she saw in his eyes, not anger. A second later the expression was gone.

“Bucky,” Wanda began, an idea sparking in her head. “Do you want to help me and Natasha make pasta?

           

*          *          *

 

Half an hour later Bucky, Natasha, and Wanda were moving together around the kitchen, making dinner. Sam had returned from the store shortly after Bucky’s incident and Steve filled him in on all that had happened. He was now sitting on a counter, stealing vegetables from Wanda’s cutting board. Wanda had tasked Bucky to cook her pasta, saying that he was the only one she trusted to not mess it up. He had smiled at that, then proceeded to be exceedingly meticulous with every strand of pasta. He was watching over the pot now like a mother hen, despite Steve joking that the water boiled slower the more you watched it.

“Sam!” Wanda scolded for the fourth time, smacking his hand away as her reached for another slice of tomato. Sam grinned, then popped a piece of tomato in his mouth when she wasn’t looking. Natasha winked at him from across the kitchen as she chopped onions and garlic for the spinach. When Wanda finished with the vegetables she moved over to the stove to dump everything into a saucepan. Bucky looked up at her with a smile as he stirred her pasta.

“Is this what you expected?” Wanda asked, waving her hand around at the lot of them. Sam and Natasha were now bickering about whether or not a tomato was a fruit and Steve was curled up into Sam’s side, poking at his ribs good-naturedly. Bucky laughed lightly. It was the first time Wanda had heard him laugh. She liked it.

“No,” he admitted, “But I feel good here.” _Safe,_ is what he didn’t say, but Wanda heard it in his voice and saw it in his body language. He had put his backpack safely in Steve and Sam’s room and changed into a pair of Sam’s fuzzy socks. He still had a lot to work on and a long way to go to get better, but he looked relaxed and happy, at least for now. Wanda grinned. Her family just kept growing and growing and she was thrilled. Natasha shimmied up next to Wanda at the stove and planted a long, lingering kiss on her lips. Wanda saw Bucky look away, embarrassed.

“What was that for?” she chided, smacking Natasha half-heartedly on the shoulder.

"I don’t know,” Natasha blushed. She rarely blushed. “I just love you, that’s all.” A smile bloomed across Wanda’s face.

“I love you too, Dummy. Now get out of my way. Unlike someone, I’m actually trying to feed this family.” Natasha laughed and danced away, her hips swaying. Wanda looked after her, grinning, then turned back to her pasta sauce. She loved these crazy people so, so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! A year ago I promised more Wanda/Nat in the soul mate verse and I am finally delivering! This was so easy and fun to write (I guess I missed writing these gals more than I thought) and I'm so happy to be sharing this with you guys! I love feedback so please don't be shy :)))
> 
> Also I intended for this whole thing to be fluffy but I am incapable of writing a fic without angst so there's that...


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